Whisper
by Lothiriel84
Summary: "When thy little heart doth wake, / Then the dreadful night shall break." (William Blake) - Written for tromana. Title borrowed from the namesake song by Evanescence. Spoilers for season 5 finale, so read at your own risk. Cover image courtesy of aprilvolition.


**Whisper**

Jane had called her in the middle of the night, begging her to come over in a hushed voice she'd never heard from him before. Now they were sitting side by side on his bed, the one he seldom used these days; her eyes never left the pale face of the dead man that was lying at their feet, but she wasn't really seeing him anymore.

"You should be handcuffing me, you know."

Under any other circumstance she would have felt the urge to laugh at him, but she didn't feel like laughing now. Lisbon pinched the bridge of her nose instead, in a vain attempt to fight the mounting headache.

"I think I'll just leave it to someone else. We'd better think about a way to get you out of this mess."

In a way she'd always known she had it coming, right from the day she signed on with him; she'd even told him as much when they were locked inside a container in the middle of nowhere. That didn't change the fact that she still wanted to save him, no matter how lost the cause might seem at this moment in time.

"I'm not sure it can be done," Jane said softly. "But I do appreciate the thought."

"Don't be an idiot. I'm not going to let you rot in jail, or worse."

She simply couldn't bring herself to mention death penalty, though it was a distinct possibility; he'd already shot and killed a guy before, even though it had turned out to be the wrong one. The past seemed to be repeating itself, but there was no assurance that things would wrap themselves so nicely this time around.

"You're sweet," Jane murmured somewhat absent-mindedly, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles for the briefest of moments.

"Do you think it's really him?"

That was the crux of the matter, the worst fear that was plaguing her mind. What if he'd killed the wrong man once again? What was he going to do next, hunt down each of the suspects until they were all dead?

Lisbon wasn't really sure about anything anymore. The one thing she knew for sure was that she wouldn't allow her best friend to turn into a serial killer, just as she didn't want to watch him walk on death row instead.

"I don't think. I know."

"How so?"

Jane turned to look her in the eyes at long last. "You're the one who told me that he quoted one of Blake's poems the night I helped Hightower to escape. I though he was Red John's mole once, but now I know there was more to it than that."

"That doesn't prove anything. No jury would ever trust your hunches, especially when it comes to the serial killer you've been hunting for an entire decade."

An almost inaudible sigh escaped from his lips; he looked incredibly weary now, she could barely suppressed the urge to wrap her arms around him and hug him for dear life.

"He came here to taunt me, Lisbon. I could see a smirk dancing in his eyes as he said that the last person who would have been able to identify Red John was now lying in a morgue."

"I can't believe that he murdered Rosalind. I've always thought he was genuinely in love with her after all."

"Well, you can't really expect a serial killer to love someone else as much as he loves himself."

The lump in her throat was growing more unbearable with every passing moment; surrendering to the tears she was struggling to keep at bay would have been a much welcome relief. However, she knew that she couldn't give in yet, she had to be strong for both of their sakes.

"You should have called me as soon as he showed up. I would have been able to back up your story then, God only knows how much you'd need it."

"They wouldn't have believed you either way. Even Sean was able to see right through you, remember?"

It was the very first time that Jane addressed the matter of the unresolved feelings they harbored for each other, and Lisbon couldn't help wincing slightly. She knew that Barlow was wrong, however; 'a little in love with him' was nothing but a pitiful understatement, she was in too deep to back up now.

There was no choice for her but to fight tooth and nail for him, and die in the attempt if it needed to be. More likely, she would kiss goodbye to her career and everything that had ever mattered to her, but that didn't scare her as much as the prospect of losing her friend for good this time.

"I wouldn't mind sharing a jail cell with you," she tried to joke, but failed miserably.

"You'd better arrest me now, give yourself a small chance to eventually get back your job."

Her bottom lip quivered ever so slightly. "I can't."

Jane took her hand between his own and held it tightly. His gaze was telling her all that he didn't dare to put into words; he trusted her, cared for her, would do anything in the world to make it through were that even possible.

"It's okay, Teresa," he whispered soothingly. "Everything is going to be alright."

Slowly she pulled out the handcuffs she'd brought along out of sheer habit; the sound of them clicking around his wrists reverberated through the silence of the motel room, both of them at a loss for words as they circled the body lying on the carpet and headed to the door.

"When thy little heart doth wake," Lisbon muttered under her breath as they paused on the threshold. "Then the dreadful night shall break."

She didn't even try to fight back the tears that were now running freely down her cheeks.


End file.
